Aftershock - Part II
by chrmisha
Summary: SEQUEL to Aftershock - Part I. Severus Snape has been rescued, and although things seem to be looking up at first, devastation soon follows. Can Snape save Harry this time around? A/U, takes place post-war.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: (1) This is a SEQUEL to Aftershock - Part I where Snape had been kidnapped and tortured for three years and had just been rescued and, although still severely injured, reunited with Harry. (2) All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1**

"Harry," Severus whispered, putting his hands on the younger man's shoulders and pushing him back from their embrace. He felt pain and fatigue rapidly returning and knew he needed to get back. "Let's meet at Malfoy Manor in an hour."

Harry looked scared and confused. "Sev, please, don't leave me again."

Severus raised a hand and carded it through Harry's windswept hair, gazing into the deep green eyes he'd missed terribly for the last three years. "I'm not leaving you, Harry. I promise. I just need to rest," he said, hating to admit it.

"Oh," Harry breathed. "All right."

Still Harry didn't move. He was studying Severus as if he were a ghost.

"Are you really here?" Harry asked, stretching out tentative fingers to stroke Severus's scarred face.

"Yes," Severus assured him. "I really am. You aren't dreaming. I promise."

But Harry looked unconvinced, not that Severus could blame him.

"Here," Severus said, unwrapping the silk scarf that Hannah had woven around his neck to hide the bruising. While he'd rather not reveal any of his injuries to Harry just yet, giving him something tangible to hold on to would likely help. "Keep this for now."

Harry gratefully accepted the offering, closing his eyes and bringing it to his nose to inhale the garment's scent.

"Now hop back on your overgrown pony so we can meet again in an hour."

"All right," Harry said and Severus felt his stomach drop as Harry's eyes drifted to his bruised neck.

"Sev," Harry gasped, reaching out to tentatively touch the bruises.

Severus grabbed Harry's fingers and held them tight. "Shhh," he said. "Later."

Biting his lip, Harry nodded, and Severus could tell he was holding back tears.

"Go," Severus whispered. "I will see you soon. I promise."

* * *

As soon as Harry was back at the stables, he let Draco cool off Penny while he raced to the manor house. Sev was back! He couldn't believe it! There was so much to do! He rushed up the stairs to Sev's rooms and began casting every variety of cleaning spell he could think of, removing dust, changing the bed sheets, freshening the linens. Sev was coming home!

* * *

Severus lay in the guest bed at Malfoy Manor, exhausted and in pain. He hated to admit that he'd overdone it. But seeing Harry had been worth it. He wouldn't have traded that for the world. Still, his back hurt beyond measure, his lower half was numb, and his head was throbbing.

An ecstatic buzz echoed around Malfoy Manor as Hannah tended to his medical needs while the others awaited Harry's arrival.

Severus wasn't sure how much to tell the younger wizard. He knew Harry wouldn't take his captivity and torture well. Perhaps it would be better to spare him the details, at least initially. No one had told Harry how badly Snape had been injured, and he wasn't sure he should. He was immensely grateful that he'd been able to persuade Harry to take Penny back to the stable, allowing Severus the privacy of being levitated off his stallion by Hannah unobserved.

Severus had just drifted off to sleep when the noise in the house reached a crescendo and, before he knew it, Harry was beside him, his eyes bright.

"Sev," Harry said, leaning down to hug Snape once again.

Severus gasped in pain and Harry pulled back, frowning. "Are you all right?"

"I…" Severus started but trailed off, grimacing.

Harry's face darkened. "What did they do to you?"

Severus swallowed and looked away. "Nothing good, I assure you."

Harry cursed and grasped Severus's hand, holding it in both of his as he took the seat next to Snape's bed. "I'm so sorry," Harry said, his voice breaking. He cleared his throat. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Severus met Harry's gaze. He was so tired. So tired. "Harry…" Severus said. "I don't mean to put you off, but I'm afraid the ride wore me out. I can hardly keep my eyes open."

"Of course, Sev," Harry said, squeezing his hand, but Severus could see Harry's eyes were troubled. Severus knew if the situation was reversed, he'd be no less impatient for answers. And vengeance.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Harry asked.

"I… It's all right, Harry, I am just going to sleep. Come back when I am awake?"

"Always," Harry said, leaning over to kiss Severus lightly on the forehead. "I'll just be in the other room. Call if you need me?"

"I will."

Harry smoothed down Snape's long hair, gazing at him for long moments before he finally took his leave.

As Severus drifted off to sleep, he thought he heard raised voices in the other room, but he was too exhausted to pay them much mind.

* * *

"Harry, mate, calm down," Ron pleaded.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry roared. "You all knew and you didn't tell me!" Harry ran a hand through his hair. "How could you?" he accused, glaring at each of them, daring them to defend themselves.

"He didn't want us to," Hermione said, her voice a plea for understanding.

"And you listened to him?" Harry bellowed. "A man who'd been kept in captivity and tortured for _three years_?"

"Potter," Draco drawled, stepping forward. "Like it or not, Snape is capable of making his own decisions."

That seemed to take the wind out of Harry's sails.

"Fuck," Harry spat. "I hate seeing him like this."

"Which is why he didn't want you to know, mate," Ron surmised. "He knew you'd worry."

"Of course I'd worry!" Harry shouted.

"He worries about you, too," Hermione pointed out.

A house-elf appeared to announce dinner, putting a temporary end to the heated conversation.

Hannah joined them midway through, after examining Snape.

"How's he doing?" Harry asked.

"He's sleeping, and likely won't wake until midday tomorrow. Why don't you all go home and get some rest this evening."

Harry placed his fork on the table. "I'm not leaving."

"Harry, Hannah's right. There's nothing you can do for him right now," Hermione said.

"I've waited three years for this day, Hermione. If the situation was reversed, he wouldn't leave me, and you know it."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance. "Alright, mate," Ron commented. "But what about the animals?"

Harry cursed. "I'll go and take care of them now and then come back."

"I'm not running a hotel," Draco drawled.

"Shove it, Malfoy," Potter said, though without heat.

Draco got up from the table and clapped Harry on the back. "I'll transfigure the desk in his room into a bed for you. And Potter?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"You owe me," Draco said.

Harry rolled his eyes.

* * *

Harry returned, newly showered and in clean clothes. He was just about to check on Severus, when Draco stopped him.

"Potter," he called. "A word."

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"I've talked to Snape these last couple of days. It's going to take some time for him to heal, and I know you want to help."

"Of course I want to help!"

"But Snape is, well, Snape. He won't appreciate you coddling him," Draco advised.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I am merely suggesting," Draco said, studying his manicured fingernails, "that you leave his care to the nursing staff I've hired and simply be his friend."

"What were you expecting I'd do?" Harry demanded.

"I know you, Potter. You'd empty the man's bed pan if he let you."

Harry flushed.

"He doesn't need you to be his savior, Potter."

"You think I don't know that?" Harry asked defensively.

"I think you're likely to forget," Draco drawled.

"I'm not a complete idiot," Harry muttered.

Draco met Harry's gaze straight on. "You can be when it comes to Snape."

* * *

Harry couldn't sleep. For a while, he sat by Sev, running his fingers lightly over the older man's heavily veined hands, studying the broken nails, the thin bruised skin, the stick-thin arms, the too long hair. Now that the glamour had worn off, there was no hiding the deep, sunken cheeks and bulging eye sockets. Clearly Severus had been starved, and likely for a long time by the looks of it.

Harry swallowed hard, forcing back the tears that sprang to his eyes. Seeing Sev like this-in such bad shape-broke his heart and filled him with anger. How could anyone do this? And who _had_ done this to him? Any why? To make matters worse, Harry didn't even know precisely what had happened to Sev and no one seemed willing to tell him, including the man himself.

Harry still couldn't quite believe that Severus was back. He wondered repeatedly if it was a dream, and whenever he did, he reached out to touch some part of the wizard, just to make sure the man was really there.

When Severus started moaning in his sleep, Harry jumped. The man's features were twisted in anguish. Quickly, Harry exited the room, finding Hannah making notes in Snape's chart at the dining table.

"I think Sev needs more pain meds," Harry said.

Hannah checked her watch. "He's not due for his next dose for another two hours."

"Isn't there anything you can give him?" Harry felt nervous and panicky at the thought of Severus suffering when he was finally free of wherever they'd held him prisoner.

Hannah got up from the table and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'll check on him."

Harry followed her into the room. Snape was tossing a bit and still moaning.

Hannah checked him over thoroughly before turning back to Harry. "I think he's just dreaming, Harry. I don't think he's in pain-at least not the physical sort-not the type I can treat with a potion."

Harry slumped into the chair beside Sev's bed, feeling wretched. Wasn't it bad enough that the man had had to live through that torture, and now he had to dream about it as well?

"Harry," Hannah said, squatting down in front of him. "You need to get some sleep too. You can't help him if you make yourself sick with worry."

Harry glanced up through haunted eyes. "I can't help it," he muttered. "I don't even know what they did to him. I just keep imagining the worst, and I wasn't there to help him."

"You're here now. He appreciates that very much," Hannah said.

"But I can't do anything for him," Harry lamented. "I can't even…"

"You can be his friend. That's all he needs from you right now."

Harry bowed his head and nodded. It wasn't enough. He felt so helpless and useless. Once Hannah had left the room, Harry reached for Sev's hand again, holding it in his.

"I'm here, Sev," he whispered. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. You're safe now." As Snape's dream continued, Harry wiped the tears from his own face, and whispered, "I won't leave you, I promise."

* * *

Severus was going spare. He appreciated Harry's efforts, he really did, but by the fifth day of his recovery at Malfoy Manor-the third day with Harry by his side-he was at his wit's end. Harry wore his guilt for Severus's suffering like a beacon, and spent every minute of every day trying to make up for something that wasn't even his fault. Severus couldn't get a moment to himself, and for someone who'd spent the last three years confined to a small cell all alone, not to mention that he was a relatively solitary person to begin with, it was suffocating to say the least.

He'd tried to tell Harry in a nice way that Harry should return home. Severus needed time to rest and heal after all, and Harry needn't be present constantly. He had nurses for that. He tried to give Harry errands that would send him away for a time, such as searching for obscure books in Draco's library, but Harry inevitably delegated such tasks to one of Draco's house-elves.

"Sev, why don't you move back to my place? Wouldn't it be nice to have your own room back?"

"Harry, please," Severus said, pinching the bridge of his nose. They'd had this discussion before. Severus couldn't get away from Harry as it was. The thought of being trapped in Harry's home with the overeager younger man was overwhelming just now. He needed space, and here at Malfoy manor, at least Draco could try and run interference for him.

"Do you have a headache? I can get your nurse. She can give you a potion for that. Or do you want something to drink? I can get you some water, or make you some juice if you'd prefer. Would you like ice in your drink? Or I could charm a cool cloth for you. Or if you're hungry…"

"Stop," Severus said, gritting his teeth. "I don't need anything but rest."

"All right," Harry said, plopping back down in the chair beside Severus's bed. "Would you like me to read to you? Should I dim the lights? Is the sun bothering you? I can draw the curtains. Or maybe get darker ones? It is awfully bright in here. Should I just let you sleep? Are your dreams still bothering you?"

Severus forced himself to take a deep breath. "Harry, please go home."

"Go home?" Harry asked, as if he hadn't understood the words. "Oh! You want to go home? That's great!" Harry smiled. "Like I've said, I've got your room all ready for you, and I'm sure the nurses could come there. Then I wouldn't have to be gone so long to take care of the animals. It would be so nice to have you home again. I could help you…"

"Potter, for Merlin's sake, just leave me be! How can I possible get any rest with your incessant chatter?" Severus said, dragging a hand across his face. "I know you mean well, but I need a break."

One look at Harry's crestfallen and confused expression had Severus biting his tongue.

"You want me to leave?" Harry asked, his eyes wide, his voice breathless.

"Yes." The word came out harsher than he'd intended, but he did have a headache and he was beyond exhausted.

Harry got to his feet, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just wanted to help."

"I know, Harry," Severus said. "I just need some time alone. Surely you can understand. Just give me…"

But Harry had fled.

"…a couple of hours," Severus trailed off, knowing Harry hadn't heard him. Likely he hadn't wanted Severus to see his tears. Severus slumped back in his bed, feeling guilty for hurting the sensitive younger man. Before he could dwell too much on it, though, he'd fallen asleep, thankful for the peace and quiet.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

"Harry!" Hermione proclaimed. "What are you doing here? Usually I only see you here in the mornings and evenings when you feed…" Hermione broke off at the sight of tears running down Harry's face. Grabbing his arm, she asked urgently, "What's wrong? Is Severus all right? Has something happened?"

"He told me to leave," Harry said, his expression the picture of misery.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, pulling him into an embrace.

"I was just trying to help. He's been through so much and I didn't want him to be alone and…"

"I know," Hermione said, pulling back to look at her friend. "This has been really hard on both of you. Severus just needs some time to rest and to heal."

"That's what he said," Harry said around a sob.

"Have a seat and I'll make you some tea," Hermione said, pulling out a chair for him.

Harry slumped into it and laid his forehead on the table, banging it lightly.

"Stop that," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I can't believe he told me to leave," he moaned. "He was gone three years and…" his voice broke off.

"Harry," Hermione said, pulling out a chair beside him. "Severus is a very proud man, you know that. He doesn't want you to see him like this."

"But I don't care about that!" Harry protested.

"I know that, but Severus does. He wants to be healthy and whole for you." Leaning in, Hermione added, "He's used to taking care of you. He's not used to you taking care of him."

Harry made a sound of frustration deep in his throat. "How can I convince him to let me help him? I want to help him! He's done so much for me and he's been gone so long and he's hurting…"

"I know. You just need to give him some time. He's in a lot of pain and he needs to rest right now. Once he's feeling better, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

Harry raised his head and speared Hermione with a desperate gaze. "Will you please tell me what's wrong with him? No one will tell me."

Hermione bit her lip.

"Hermione, please. Everyone knows but me, and shouldn't I be the one to know most of all?" When Hermione hesitated, Harry swore. "What is it that you are all keeping from me?" When that tactic didn't work, Harry said, "If it was Ron, you'd demand to know, too."

Sighing, Hermione capitulated. "They broke his back in several places." As if to soften the blow, she whispered, "He's paralyzed from the waist down."

Harry gaped. "Can't the healers fix that?"

"They're trying," Hermione said, "but even magic can't fix everything."

"But…" Harry protested, gathering his thoughts. "He rode his horse. How could he ride his horse if he was paralyzed?"

"Magic and a lot of help. While Draco was persuading you to get on Penny, Ron was getting Snape dressed and Hannah had him braced and magicked into the saddle. She also spelled his stallion to be as gentle as a pony."

Harry shook his head, unable to take it all in. "Why?"

"Severus didn't want your first sight of him to be that of a broken man," she said. "He couldn't bear the thought."

Harry swallowed against the lump in this throat. "Can he… will he be able to walk again?"

"We don't know," she said sadly.

Harry put his head back on the table and wept while Hermione rubbed his back.

* * *

Harry paced his room. It was nearing three in the morning, but he couldn't sleep. Severus had been back for five days, seven if you counted the two days before when Harry hadn't known. Yet he hadn't seen Sev for the last two of those, not since Sev had asked him to leave. Harry had barely eaten or slept since. Knowing Sev was back, yet not being able to see him, was killing Harry.

How could Sev have told him to leave? Harry hadn't seen the man for _three_ _years_ and then he'd only been allowed _three_ _days_ with him before Sev had turned him away. Didn't Sev know that Harry was only trying to help? Sev had done so much for Harry, more than Harry could ever repay, and now, when Harry could finally return the favor, Sev wanted nothing to do with him.

Harry ran his hands through his hair. How had it come to this? In any of his daydreams about Sev being found, they had never ended like this, with Harry being exiled from his bedside. It slowly began to dawn on Harry that maybe Sev hadn't really missed him at all. Or maybe the man's feelings had changed for him while he'd been held in captivity. Maybe Sev was angry that Harry hadn't managed to find him, save him. Maybe Sev blamed Harry for Harry's failure to rescue him. Harry certainly blamed himself. Sev would never have given up looking for him if had he gone missing. Sev wouldn't have locked himself in his house and stopped searching, refusing all contact with the outside world. Sev would have beaten down every door until he found Harry and brought him home. Yes, Harry certainly _had_ failed Severus. Perhaps that was why the man wanted nothing to do with him. Harry was stricken by the very thought.

* * *

Even after Harry had left, Severus found he had little time to himself. When he wasn't sleeping, healers were there working on him, trying to fix his back. And now that the swelling had gone down, therapists were arriving as well. They poked and prodded him, massaged and kneaded the muscles of his useless legs, bent them at odd angles, all in the name of _physical therapy_. They were trying to 'reawaken his nerve endings' they told him as they held him in awkward positions and said spells over his limp limbs and dysfunctional spinal cord. Snape was beginning to think that even Harry's incessant chatter was preferable to this indignity. And that was before the Aurors had shown up, insisting on asking him the same questions, over and over, for hours on end. If he'd had answers for them, he'd have happily given them, if only to see the annoyingly persistent Aurors gone from the place.

* * *

As the hours turned into days, Harry's world began to collapse in on itself. He'd begun setting alarms to remind himself to feed and water the animals: a chore that no longer held any pleasure for him. He still brought the eggs and milk up to the house, but Hermione had taken over making breakfast. She hovered over him like a hawk, making sure he ate everything on his plate. She bemoaned his lack of sleep. She cajoled him to take better care of himself. Sometimes Ron joined in on this, and other times he told Hermione to give it a rest. Harry said little.

The house was quieter these days. Hermione and Ron had returned to work. Hannah and Draco had both taken leaves of absence to tend to Severus. Hannah's sister Calista had gone off to Hogwarts. And that left Harry alone, to do nothing but lament his sorry excuse for a life. After three, long, miserable years, Severus had returned. And he didn't want to see Harry. What was the point of living if even Severus couldn't stand his company?

All Harry had been able to think about during those dark times was Severus. Was he still alive? Was he in pain? Was he missing Harry as much as Harry missed him? He thought about how much Severus had come to mean to him after the war. How he'd never told the man as much. What he would do and say if he ever got the chance to see him again.

Yet here he was, Sev was back-gravely injured-but still back, and Harry was adrift and more alone than ever. Sev didn't want his help or his sympathy. Sev didn't want _him_. It was more than Harry could take.

* * *

It had been three days since he'd sent Harry away. He hadn't meant that the younger man wasn't welcome to visit, merely that he needn't spend every moment of his time in Severus's presence. So why hadn't Harry come back to visit? If only to check on him?

Resolved to let Harry come to terms with everything that had happened as Harry saw fit, Severus resigned himself to being patient. He'd waited three years to see Harry again, he could wait a couple more days.

He decided to spend the interim time getting as much rest as he could and trying to regain some of his strength. The more therapy and healing he could accomplish now, the stronger and healthier he'd be when he saw Harry next. That all sounded well and good, but he missed the younger man something fierce.

When he'd first seen Harry on Penny, he felt as if he'd been given his life back. Yes he was severely injured, and yes he'd hidden it from Harry, but the look of surprise and wonder and relief in Harry's eyes when he'd seen Severus alive had been more than worth it. Harry's touch alone, after so long without comforting human contact, had been a balm to his soul. He yearned for Harry to return to him. Harry was never patient; surely he would be back soon.

* * *

By the fifth day of being banished from Malfoy manor, Harry had stopped sleeping and eating altogether. Other than taking care of the animals, he stayed in his room. His mind was a chaos of dark and desperate thoughts. He had started to use a glamour to hide his appearance.

Hermione had taken to bringing him breakfast and dinner because he'd refused to eat in the dining room any longer. He always thanked her. Then he'd break off a few crumbs, smear the food around the plate to make it look as though he'd eaten, and banish the rest. Ron had taken to spending evenings with him, trying to engage him in chess or some other pastime, telling him that Snape would come around, that it was only a matter of time before he'd be asking for Harry to visit.

Harry had finally told Ron and Hermione both that he was writing a book, a book about his life. About growing up and the war. He said it was something he'd always wanted to do. He said that now that Severus was back home safe, he could concentrate on one of the projects he'd always wanted to do until Sev was ready to see him again. It gave him an excuse to stay locked in his rooms day and night. And it hadn't been a total lie, he _had_ been writing, but it wasn't a book. He was writing letters.

Early that afternoon, much earlier than normal, he went out to the stables to take care of the animals. The sun was shining bright, and he relished the feel of it against his skin. He gazed around the estate, taking in the stream that he loved, the trees and the birds and the fresh air. He inhaled the scent of hay and leather and feed and, for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt at peace.

He took his time with each of his animals, saving Penny for last. He talked to the chickens as he sprinkled seed on the ground for them. He rubbed down Sir Francis Bacon, smiling as she practically purred with pleasure, flipping onto her back so he could rub her tummy. He patted Bessie as he milked her, taking the time to thank her, before feeding her some hay. Then he made his way to Penny. Penny, his overgrown pony, as Sev had called her. He scratched her behind the ears and fed her an apple. She nuzzled him as if to ask him why today was so different. He didn't respond, merely placed his forehead against her nose and inhaled her unique scent.

Finished with his chores, he made his way back up to the manor. He gazed at it for long moments, remembering the time he and Sev had spent together fixing it up. There hadn't been much to do, as the previous owners had kept it in good repair, but still, old manors needed regular maintenance, and Sev had much more knowledge in that area than Harry could ever claim. Shoulder to shoulder, Sev had taught him spells to clean windows and to fix leaks and cracks and to fight back weeds. Sev, his Sev, who had taught him all he needed to know to be a landowner, and to take care of farm animals. Sev, who had been the one constant in Harry's adult life. Sev, who had finally returned, only to cut ties with him.

Swallowing his tears, Harry made his way inside. He debated walking through the rooms before he made his way to his quarters, but he couldn't muster the energy or initiative to do so. Instead, he forced himself up to the stairs and into his study. Carefully, he laid out the ledgers of his accounts, showing his expenditures. He made sure they were all in order and easily understandable. Then he placed out his monthly bills, in the order they needed to be paid. Lastly, he laid out his log on the animals-where he purchased their feed, how much they should be fed and when, and any other particular cares they required.

Next, he took a quick shower and shaved before putting on sleep pants and a short-sleeved cotton shirt. He made his way to his bedroom, where he laid his favorite dress robes out on his bed: a deep green velvet set trimmed in gold that Sev had picked out for him for the ceremony where he was awarded his Order of Merlin, First Class. He ran his fingers along the soft velvet, remembering how Sev had stood beside him the whole night. Harry hadn't wanted to go, hadn't felt up to it. The trauma of the war and all of its losses had still been too fresh. Ron and Hermione had gone to Australia to find her parents, and Harry hadn't wanted to face the crowds alone. To Harry's surprise, Sev had stepped up and taken Harry under his wing, seeing him through the event before, during, and after. If it hadn't been for Severus…

Harry shook his head, forcing the memories away. Sev wasn't his anymore. Perhaps he never had been. Perhaps Harry had been a fool to believe things could go back to the way they had been when Severus returned. Then again, Harry thought, he'd always been a fool. When had his life ever worked out the way he'd wanted it to?

Fighting against the soul-deep sorrow that threatened to engulf him, he carefully laid out the scrolls he'd written. There were so many. Letters to Hermione and Ron, Hannah and Ernie, George and Ginny, Bill and Fleur, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Luna, Neville, Hagrid, Minerva, and many more. He laid these on his bed, beside his dress robes.

Then he went to his dresser and pulled the wooden box out from the bottom drawer. After Sev had disappeared, he'd started adding things to it: a ticket from a Muggle concert they'd attended, a receipt from a restaurant, the book on hexes Sev had given him one Christmas, the Snitch tie clip Sev had given him for his thirtieth birthday. In the beginning, when the reminders of Severus had been too painful, he'd began squirrelling these items away in this box to keep them out of sight. Later, when he was particularly missing the man, he'd sit on the floor and go through its contents, reveling in the memories that each item brought forth of the times they'd spent so contentedly in each other's company.

Now, he merely set the box atop his dresser unopened. He retrieved the black silk scarf that Sev had given him when he'd first returned on horseback. Harry folded it neatly, trying not to think about how he'd felt that day-the ecstatic joy, the relief, the _hope_. He set the scarf carefully atop the box, and then placed the scroll for Severus atop that. More than all the other letters, this one had been the hardest to write. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to turn away.

He hopped up onto the cushioned window seat in his bedroom that overlooked the back gardens and sighed. He had loved this place. When Sev had lived here, it had been his home. After Sev had been taken, it had been his refuge. Now, it had become his prison-haunted by hopelessness and lost dreams. Pushing those thoughts aside, he focused instead on what lay ahead. On relief and freedom and the absence of pain.

Settling himself more comfortably into the cushions of the deep window seat, he leaned back against the wall and drew up his knees. Balancing his left hand, palm up, atop his left knee, he studied his thickly veined wrist. He closed his eyes momentarily before whispering a mirroring spell. Then he raised his wand and drew a vertical line along the inside of his left arm, watching as an identical line appeared on his other arm. As his wand slipped from his fingers, he let his eyelids fall shut. It was better this way.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

"I'm worried about Harry," Hermione said as she ate a late lunch with her husband Ron outside the Ministry of Magic.

"Me too," Ron said around a bite of fish and chips.

"Maybe we should go home and check on him," Hermione said. "He's been spending an awful lot of time in his room, and I just don't think it's healthy."

"Well," Ron said, "it would help if Snape would see him. I think Harry feels left out."

"I know he does," Hermione said. "What if I go and check on Harry, and you stop by Snape and see if Harry can come visit. I think it would ease Harry's mind."

"Ugh," Ron said. "How come I get Snape duty? He listens to you better anyway."

Hermione smiled. "Because I thought of it first. If Snape agrees, maybe Harry could spend the afternoon with him. I'd feel much better about that than Harry being alone in his room all day again."

Ron checked the time. "My boss won't mind if I'm a few minutes late back from lunch."

"Mine either," Hermione said. "Why don't you go on ahead. I just need to send my boss a quick note." Hermione pulled quill and parchment from her bag. "Meet you at home in about ten minutes then?"

"Yes, dear," Ron said, softening his reply with a kiss before Apparating away.

* * *

"Aren't you supposed to be at work, Weasley?" Draco drawled as he sat at the head of the table, the _Daily Prophet_ open as he ate his lunch.

"Yeah, but Hermione wanted to check on Harry," Ron said. "He's been having a really rough time of it ever since Snape sent him away."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Potter is _such_ a drama queen. Tell him to get his arse over here and visit the man." Draco set down his fork. "Severus doesn't say as much, but he's missing Harry, too. Every time someone enters his room that isn't Harry, his face falls. He tries to hide it, but I've known him too long."

"But I thought Snape sent him away," Ron protested.

"He _did_ , but not permanently. Potter wouldn't give him a moment's rest. You know how Potter gets. But Snape didn't banish him. He just wanted a couple of hours to rest without Potter hovering over him."

Ron looked gobsmacked.

Draco stared, realization finally striking. "You mean to tell me that, all this time, Potter's been moping around feeling sorry for himself?"

"Well, I don't know about that, but he's definitely been really down," Ron said.

Draco shook his head. "I always knew he was an idiot, but really. Severus will be thrilled to see him. He's been waiting for him to come visit."

Ron got to his feet. "That's good news, at least. I best get over to the manor and tell Harry that it was a simple misunderstanding."

* * *

Hermione entered the old manor house through the kitchen, surprised to see fresh eggs and milk on the counter. That was odd. Harry had already brought up the farm's offerings that morning for breakfast and wasn't due with more until his late afternoon chores.

"Harry?" Hermione called, knowing that Harry was likely in his room and wouldn't hear the summons.

She made her way up the stairs to Harry's wing and knocked. There was no answer. Perhaps he was sleeping. She knocked again and then checked the door-which was locked. She debated if she should bother him, and had almost decided to let him sleep when she felt the briefest shimmer of wards against her fingertips. She placed her hand more firmly against the doorknob and felt it again. Harry might lock his door, but she couldn't imagine any reason for him to ward it so strongly.

"Harry?" she called again, louder this time, the first flickers of fear entering her mind. "HARRY!"

Just as she was about to raise her wand to dismantle the wards, she heard Ron on the stairs.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"He's locked and warded his door. Really strong wards," she said, hearing the panic in her voice.

Ron raced to her side.

"Open this door at once or we're coming in!" Ron's voice bellowed through the house.

A moment later, they both raised their wands to blast through the wards.

* * *

"I just spoke with Weasley," Draco drawled as he set down a cup of tea for Snape. "It appears that Potter has been under the mistaken impression that he'd been banished."

"So that's why he hasn't been here. I wondered," Snape said, picking up the tea and taking a sip. "He's more than welcome to visit, I just did not want him constantly underfoot."

"You don't have to explain that to me," Draco said. "I know how Potter gets."

Focused on her work, Hannah dragged a metal object along the arch of Snape's left foot. "Can you feel that?" she asked.

Snape closed his eyes, hoping against hope to feel some sensation somewhere in the lower half of his body. He knew it would take time, that he couldn't expect results immediately, but the thought of being paralyzed for the rest of his life was more than a little daunting.

Just then, bright light flashed against his eyelids. He snapped his eyes open to find a bright, silvery otter Patronus heading straight for Hannah.

"Come quickly. Harry's critical."

Before Snape even made the connection between the otter and Hermione Granger-Weasley, he recognized her voice. Except it wasn't her normal voice, it was one strained with panic and clogged with emotion.

Instinctively, he tried to sit up, realizing only as he did so that he was unable. He let out a grunt of pain and cursed loudly.

Meanwhile, Draco had grabbed Hannah's arm and whispered some quick spells. "Go," he said, "I've dropped the anti-Apparition wards. I'll follow shortly."

Hannah grabbed her healer's kit and Apparated on the spot.

"Draco," Snape called.

"I'm right here," Draco said, grasping Snape's outstretched hand.

"Go and find out what is wrong with Harry. Then come back and tell me."

"You'll be all right?" Draco asked.

"Of course, just go!" Snape said, feeling panic course up his spine.

With a nod and a twist, Draco was gone as well.

* * *

Draco Apparated outside Potter's house and raced up the front walk. The door was wide open, surely left that way from Hannah's rushed arrival. Once inside, he called out but heard no answer. He rushed toward the staircase, checking rooms as he went. The kitchen, dining room, sitting room, and main foyer were all empty. Unless Harry was injured in the stables, the most likely place for him to be was his bedroom. He decided to check there first.

What he saw when he reached the scorched and broken bedroom door nearly stopped his heart. Harry was slumped over in the window seat, his head hanging at an odd angle. His eyes were closed, but his mouth was open, his lips blue. And his skin was deathly pale-at least the parts of it that weren't covered in the copious amounts of blood that painted the grisly scene a dark dizzying red.

Promptly closing his palate, Draco breathed through his teeth in an attempt to block out the sickly strong scent of blood.

He took in Granger's tear-stained face, Ron's ghostly white countenance, and Hannah's frantic movements. Stepping into the room, he could see Hermione and Ron holding opposite ends of a blood-soaked towel against one of Potter's forearms while Hannah worked frantically on the other. Empty potion vials littered the blood-splattered floor.

"We really should take him to St. Mungo's," Hannah said, and Draco had the impression it wasn't the first time she'd made the suggestion.

"We can't," Hermione lamented. "He'd never want that. The publicity alone…"

"As much as I hate to say this, Harry'd rather die at home then go to St. Mungo's," Ron said. Draco couldn't help but agree.

Hannah sighed. "Help me lay him on the floor."

"Anything I can do to help?" Draco asked, stepping fully into the room.

"Oh, Draco, thank Merlin you're here," Hannah said. "Go and search Severus's stores. I need all of the blood replenishing potion you can find."

As Draco made for the door, Hannah shouted, "And, Merlin help us, Unicorn's Bloodif you can find it."

That one ingredient made Draco's heart race and sweat break out over this body. There was only one reason that a healer used Unicorn's Blood-and that was to tether a grievously injured and dying patient to life. It was an incredibly rare and expensive ingredient as it was only suitable for use if it was given willingly by a unicorn. If it was obtained by force, it would carry a dark curse the likes of which no healer would dare touch. Hence, it was one that was not regularly stocked in a home potions cabinet. But Snape was a Potions master who liked to experiment and there was a slight chance he might actually have some. For Potter and for Snape's sakes, Draco hoped he did.

Forty-five minutes later, they were all shaking and sweating, sticky with Harry's blood. Harry's heart had stopped twice and it had taken all of Hannah's healer's training and their combined magic and efforts to resuscitate Harry and keep him alive.

Hannah dragged the back of her hand against her forehead, leaving a streak of blood behind. "I think he's as stable as can be hoped for at present."

"We should get him into bed," Hermione offered.

"I'll lift him," Ron said.

"Wait." Everyone glanced toward Draco. "As soon as Severus finds out what's happened here, he's going to demand to be by Harry's side."

"That's not a bad idea," Hermione said. "Harry has been a mess without him. Having Severus here could make all the difference."

"Should we move Snape's bed in here then?" Ron asked, glancing around to judge the space afforded them.

"No," Hermione said. "Put him in Harry's bed. It's best if they are close together for now. We can always bring in another bed later."

"Severus's therapists can see him here as easily as they can see him at my place," Draco said. "And as they are already under strict secrecy contracts, Harry's condition can be added easily enough."

"Having them both in the same place would make it easier on me as well," Hannah concluded.

"Right," Draco said. "I need to go tell Severus what's going on. I'm sure he's going spare. But first, we need to clean Potter up and get him into bed. Then we need to clean ourselves up," Draco said, as everyone looked down at their limbs and blood-splattered clothing, "as well as this room."

"I can clean Harry up," Ron volunteered.

"I'll help," Draco said. "Hannah, why don't you go take a quick shower. Use Harry's en suite bathroom in case we need you."

Hannah hesitated but finally her shoulders sagged. "I'll be quick. Undress Harry fully before you put him to bed."

"Let me clear off the bed and put on fresh bed linens first," Hermione said, using magic to relocate Harry's dress robes and the many scrolls to a chair across the room. Then she used her wand to strip and remake the bed to avoid sullying the clean sheets with blood. "There," she said. "I'll shower as fast as I can."

Ron's mouth was pinched as he tried to remove Harry's clothing.

"Accio scissors," Draco said, grabbing a soaring pair of them out of the air and handing them to Ron. "His clothes are already ruined, Weasley, just cut them off. I'll get a bucket of soapy water and some flannels."

Together, Ron and Draco removed Harry's clothing and soaped him clean, being particularly careful around the wounds on his arms. Hannah returned, freshly showered, and bandaged his arms while Ron and Draco finished bathing Harry's lower body. Blood had seeped through all of his clothing, leaving only the undersides of his feet untouched.

By unspoken agreement, Ron and Draco lifted Harry and carried him to the bed. Magic just seemed too impersonal when their friend's very life hung in the balance. Hannah pulled back the covers as Ron and Draco settled Harry into bed. Hannah cast a warming charm first, and then placed several monitoring charms and an indicator beacon over the bed before covering him back up and collapsing into a chair.

"I've got Harry now," Hannah said. "Why don't you two go shower. Bring Severus back with you, Draco."

"What about that?" Ron asked, pointing to the blood-drenched window seat and the trails of blood that ran down the wall to pool on the floor.

"I'll take care of it," Hermione said as she strode back into the room, her skin clean and shiny, her hair piled into a wet knot atop her head. Raising her wand, she conjured a Japanese screen to block the area from view.

"You look like shit, Abbott," Draco observed.

"Thanks," she said, sarcasm clear in her voice.

"You can't do everything," Draco said, looking critically between Hannah and Harry. "We are going to need another couple of healers, at least until Potter is out of the woods. Do you know of anyone we can trust?"

Hannah thought about it a moment. "Yes, I can think of a couple good and discreet healers. I'll send them a Patronus."

"Good," Draco said. "I'll be back shortly."


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Severus once again lamented his injured state. If he'd been well, he'd have been at Harry's side. Even if he couldn't be there, he'd at least be up and pacing. Instead, he was bound to this mattress by a body that wouldn't cooperate as adrenaline raced through his veins, demanding release.

 _Where the hell was Draco_? It had been nearly three-quarters of an hour and Draco had not returned. He knew the younger man wouldn't leave him unnecessarily without word, which meant Draco's assistance must have been required. That didn't sit well with Severus in the least.

It was over an hour before a disheveled and sweaty Draco Malfoy strode into Snape's room, sans his outer robes. The sleeves of his buttoned-down shirt were rolled up, and he was towel drying his hands and forearms. His face shown pink as well, as if he'd just scrubbed it.

As Severus opened his mouth to shout at Draco for leaving him waiting, Draco said, "He's alive, but only just."

"What. Happened." Severus bit out.

"Opened his veins," Draco said, a bit out of breath. He demonstrated by dragging his wand from the base of his palm all the way up to the crook of his elbow. "Used a mirroring charm to do both sides simultaneously."

The blood drained from Severus's face.

"Bloody lucky, he is," Draco said. "Had Granger not checked on him when she did, had Abbott not been able to Apparate there immediately, and had you not had a stash of Unicorn's Blood in your lab, we'd be having an entirely different conversation."

Severus was suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have sent him away. I…"

"Don't even start," Draco said, summoning a calming draught and handing it to Severus. "If it's anyone's fault, it's ours. We should have been paying closer attention to Potter."

"Instead of me," Severus said as he swallowed the vial in one, long gulp.

"In addition to you," Draco clarified fiercely.

Severus's thoughts were racing, along with his heart. How had this happened? How could this have happened? Anger raced up his spine and he threw the vial, ignoring the shattering of glass as it hit the wall.

"Damn it all to hell!" Severus shouted. "I didn't save Harry's life for him to throw it all away!"

Draco ran a hand through his hair.

Severus stilled instantly. Draco _never_ messed up his hair-his perfectly coiffed hair-unless he had lost complete control of a situation.

"What is it?" Severus demanded. "What aren't you telling me?"

Draco glanced at him with troubled eyes and ran his hand through his hair once more. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I won't lie to you. Harry's touch and go right now. Hannah's not sure he'll make it."

In that moment, Severus saw his life flash before his eyes-or rather, the life he'd made with Harry. The time they'd spent together after the war and before he was abducted. The thought of Harry dying now, just when they'd been reunited, was more than he could bear.

"Take me to him."

Draco hesitated.

"Draco, I got Harry through this once before," Snape said.

"So did I," Draco returned, gazing fiercely at Snape. Although it remained unspoken, they both knew that Draco was referring to the time after Snape had been kidnapped.

"Do you wish to do it again?"

Draco shivered involuntarily. "No, I don't."

"Then what is the problem?" Severus asked, agitation clear in his voice.

And that was a good question. "I suppose I'm feeling a bit protective of you right now," Draco admitted.

Severus raised his brow.

"Fine," Draco relented. "I'll have to body-bind you to move you."

"I. Don't. Care."

Draco sighed. "Let me grab a couple of things and I'll take you to him."

Draco returned moments later with two potions-a strong muscle relaxant and an even stronger pain potion.

Severus took them without complaint. He used the spare wand that Draco had lent him to transfigure his bedsheet into a makeshift robe. "Take me to him."

* * *

As Severus was Apparated directly into Harry's bedroom, he realized that the inhabitants must have been expecting for him. Not only had Draco prepped him for transfer with the correct set of potions and spells, he'd also dismantled the wards to Apparate Severus directly into Harry's bedchamber. The coppery scent of blood immediately assaulted his senses, the air freshening charms that had been cast failing to cover up the ominous odor in its entirety.

Harry lay on his back on one side of the large bed, pale and unconscious, sheets drawn up to his neck. His body was surrounded by swirling tendrils of healer's magic that monitored his vital signs and fed into a column of light that glowed amber-red as it hung over the bed. Severus had had one of these magical indicators when he'd been recovering from Nagini's bite wound in his neck. If the beacon glowed black, it indicated irreversible death, red-black signified that death was imminent. Red meant that immediate medical intervention was required due to heart, lung, or other organ failure. Red-amber meant that the patient could turn red at any moment. Amber meant that the patient was critical but stable. Green meant that the patient was recovering. White meant that the patient was healed.

Severus stared at the red-amber light, knowing that he should be grateful it wasn't black, but caught up in the fear it engendered in him instead. Forcing himself to look away, he took in the rest of the tidy room, his attention drawn to the few things that stood out. A Japanese-style paper screen appeared to have been placed haphazardly in front of the window seat that Harry favored, blocking it from view. The large armchair in the corner was covered with Harry's green velvet dress robes and a jumble of scrolls. And on top of Harry's dresser was a wooden box draped in the silk black scarf Severus had given Harry upon his return, a single scroll tied with a green ribbon resting on top.

Suddenly the significance of all of those scrolls hit him, and he let out a moan, searching out Harry once more. The sight of the young man with his eyes closed, lips faintly blue, and as pale as death itself wrought forth a sound like a wounded animal from Severus that had Hannah rushing to his side.

"Put him on the bed next to Harry," she directed Draco.

Hermione quickly jumped up, releasing Harry's hand to hurry around the bed and pull back the covers as Draco levitated Snape into the large bed.

"Are you feeling all right?" Hannah asked, coming to rest her hand on Snape's shoulder as she released the body bind.

"Bloody hell, NO, I'm not feeling all right!" Severus shouted. "Harry just tried to kill himself. How do you think I'm feeling?"

Everyone in the room froze.

Then Hannah nodded and pulled the covers up over Snape.

Severus turned his head to stare at the young wizard. In his thirties, Harry looked younger now. He was too thin and too pale, making the dark circles under his eyes stand out. Severus shied away from the thought that they looked rather similar now.

Turning his gaze to Hannah, he asked, "How much Unicorn's Blood did you give him?"

"Half a dose," Hannah replied. "The bottle contained about two doses, but you know the side effects. I'd rather not give him any more than I absolutely must."

Severus closed his eyes momentarily and drew in his breath. Part of him wanted to give him the whole two doses immediately to ensure his survival. But an overdose of Unicorn's Blood could cause organ failure and death, which would obviously defeat the purpose.

"How much blood replenishing potion?"

Hermione bit her lip and Ron looked away. Draco stood stone-faced. Hannah set her shoulders. "Seven doses, sir."

"SEVEN DOSES?" Severus bellowed. Then he uttered a string of curses in a number of different languages. There were only fourteen units of blood in a wizard's body and a loss of forty percent blood by volume was typically fatal. Harry had lost fifty percent.

"Organ damage?" Severus bit out.

"It's too soon to tell," Hannah said quietly.

Severus swore loudly. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned to the other occupants in the room. "Leave us."

"But sir…" Hannah began.

"I am more than capable of recognizing if Harry needs a healer. You've already got a dozen monitoring spells on him. Now get out," Severus sucked in a breath, trying to hold back his emotions. "You can wait outside the door. I will summon you if you are needed."

Hannah nodded but put extra monitoring spells on both Harry and Severus before she left the room, Draco right behind her. Ron glowered but left as well. Hermione leaned over and kissed Harry on the cheek, telling him she loved him. Then she made her way around the bed to Severus's side and, much to his surprise, she kissed him on the cheek as well. "Take care of him, Severus. He needs you."

* * *

When all the observers had left, Severus attempted to roll onto his side. He could not. His back was braced, so he wasn't concerned about moving in a way he shouldn't, but with his legs as dead weight, he couldn't roll his body effectively. Instead, he used Draco's spare wand to levitate himself into the position he wanted.

Lying on his side facing the younger man, he observed Harry, poised on the very brink of death. Instinctively, he glanced up to see the indicator light-it remained red-amber. Infinitely thankful that he still had the use of his upper body, he reached out and stroked Harry's face.

"Potter, you idiot," he breathed. "Why would you do something so stupid? And why now? When I've only just got you back?"

He slid his hand into Harry's hair, feeling the silken strands slide through his fingers.

Harry looked as awful as Snape knew he himself must have done when Draco, Ron, and Hannah had found him. Or, at least after they had bathed and shaved him. Hell, he still looked that bad-emaciated and broken, barely able to move. Pushing those thoughts away, he braced himself and lifted the sheets. Harry lay naked beneath them, his skin pulsing with the magical monitoring charms. Both arms, from hands to mid-upper arms, were wrapped in sterile bandages.

Severus dropped the sheets and swallowed against the lump in his throat. "We are fools, the both of us," he said, his voice choked. "I'm sorry I sent you away. And I'm even more sorry that you thought I didn't want you there with me."

Tears began to slide down his cheeks. "That couldn't be farther from the truth." He reached out and brushed the messy hair from Harry's eyes. "You, Harry Potter, are the only reason I'm alive. You were the only reason I held on for as long as I did." He cleared his throat a couple of times before he could go on. "Now you have to hold on for me, Harry. Do you hear me? You have to hold on," he said, cupping Harry's too cool cheek in the palm of his hand.

Severus gasped against the sobs threatening to drown him. "Please Harry," he whispered. "I can't lose you. Not again. Not now. Not ever."

* * *

Severus knew, as did the others, that the first twenty-four hours were critical. If Harry could make it through those, his chances of survival increased. But at what price? That thought haunted Severus. All the magic and potions in the world could only do so much, and with the amount of blood Harry had lost before his friends had found him, there was no telling if he'd suffered brain damage, or how much, or what the effects would be. As daunting a thought as that was, he knew he'd never abandon Harry. He'd help the man, no matter what, just as Harry would do for him.

Now more than ever, Severus felt the weight of guilt on his shoulders. If he hadn't sent Harry away, Harry wouldn't have done what he did. It had been a no-win situation. He wasn't well enough to care for them both, and Harry… well, Harry was fragile at the best of times. Of course he would misinterpret Severus's intentions and assume the worst. Why Severus hadn't realized that sooner only served to fill him with further self-recriminations. But there was no changing the past.

He'd do his best to make it up to Harry. And he'd swallow his pride and let Harry help him as well. Harry needed to feel useful, Severus knew that. He just hated to be the one needing help. But if that's what it took to keep Harry sane, Severus would gladly submit. He only hoped it wasn't too late.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

"Tempus," Severus murmured, groaning as the numbers flashed above him-3:32 am. Immediately, he glanced to the indicator light above Harry. It hadn't changed. He let out a sigh.

A shuffling of papers had him glancing to the other side of the room. A dim light emanated from said papers, but the light it cast wasn't enough to identify the person sitting at Harry's desk. "Who's there?" he called out.

Immediately the figure pushed back the chair, walking through the darkness toward him.

Severus lit his wand, shielding the brightness of it so as not to blind the person. To his utter surprise, Luna Lovegood appeared at his side.

"Hello, Professor Snape."

Severus stared at her, dumbfounded. He hadn't seen her in years, but he'd recognize her anywhere. Her hair was still too long-straw blond and obnoxiously curly. Her pale blue eyes still protruded from her oval face. In the dim light, she looked otherworldly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Luna smiled. "I've taken over the night shifts so that Hannah can get some rest. I'm here in case either of you need me. Harry is resting well right now. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Ignoring the question, Severus said, "You're a healer now?"

"Not exactly," she said, summoning an overstuffed chair that she pulled up to the bed beside Snape. "Although I did complete my healer's training." She tilted her head sideways. "May I?" she asked, reaching for his hand.

Reluctantly, he allowed her to take it in hers, completely confused as to why she would want to do so. Yet her touch was warm and comforting and asked nothing of him.

She ran her fingers along his hand and wrist, sending tiny sparks of electricity along his skin that felt odd but did not cause discomfort. "Have you heard of Heinrich von Ludwig?" she asked, releasing his hand.

"No," Severus replied.

"Funny man," she said, looking off into the distance. "His spectacles were always a bit lopsided and he spoke with an Australian accent even though he was born and raised in Germany." She returned her protuberant gaze to him. "I apprenticed under him after I completed healer's training. He was working on some unusual methods for repairing nerve damage in witches and wizards who were paralyzed and hadn't responded to other treatments."

Severus's eyebrows shot up.

"Unfortunately, he caught a rare and incurable strain of dragon pox and died quite suddenly."

 _Well, so much for that,_ Severus thought.

"I do recall the techniques he taught me, though," Luna said, squeezing his hand lightly before releasing it.

"Am I to be your guinea pig, then?"

Luna smiled indulgently. "Only if you wish it. I am no longer a healer, per se, so I would be helping you as a friend."

"A friend," Severus said, his voice deadpan.

"A friend of a friend?" she offered.

"I'll think about it," he said. He supposed he should be grateful for the offer, but he wasn't sure he trusted Miss Lovegood's healing prowess. The young girl she'd been had been flighty and eccentric at the best of times. "If you are no longer a healer, what is it you do now?"

For the first time, she looked at him with pity in her eyes. He stiffened automatically.

"I ferry souls, Professor." She spoke the words as if they were a perfectly normal, everyday thing to say.

"You're a _death walker_?" Severus asked, but it was more of an accusation than a question. Death walkers were exceedingly rare and considered about as unlucky, and as unwelcome, as thestrals. Before she could respond, realization hit. He glanced between her and Harry, feeling the blood drain from his face.

"No," he said, shaking his head vehemently. "No, no, no."

"Relax, Professor," Luna said, laying her hand over his once more. "I am not here to help Harry cross."

"But you're a death walker," Severus repeated. As rare as they were, and as much as he didn't want to believe they even existed, if one _did_ exist, the oddball Luna Lovegood would definitely fit the profile.

"We do more than help souls meet and accept their death. We also help confused and frightened souls return to their bodies if it isn't their time yet."

Severus's mind raced. "I don't know how your gift works," he admitted, "but can you see Harry's soul?"

Luna's face fell and Severus felt his world fall apart. "What is it?" he demanded.

"Harry is… lost… right now."

"You can't find him?" Severus nearly bellowed, as if Harry's condition was _her_ fault.

"Oh no, Professor. I found him."

"And?"

"He's caught in-between. He's torn between joining his parents and godfather and returning to his friends in the here and now. He is frightened and alone. He feels _lost_."

Severus swallowed. "But it isn't his time. Because if it was, you'd have helped him cross already."

"It's not quite that simple," Luna said, spinning the silver bangles on her wrist. "It might not be his time this second, but it might be his time in the next second."

"Take me to him," Severus suddenly demanded.

The pity that was lurking in her eyes shone brighter once again.

"Please, just let me talk to him," Severus pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Professor. He's not stable enough right now. I merely checked on him. Even I didn't dare approach him, not when he hovers so close to death as it is. Any interference at this point could push him over the edge."

Severus cursed and turned his head away.

"The moment he is stable, I will take you to him," Luna promised. "Now how about some tea?"

* * *

Severus woke the next morning to hushed voices as Luna packed up her things to leave, while Hannah looked freshly showered and ready to start her day. Hermione came in with breakfast, placing a spread of food before Severus. Ron sat beside Harry, talking quietly to the unconscious man.

"How is he?" Severus asked, and the room at large stilled. Luna nodded and said her good-byes, while Hannah came to sit by Severus, all eyes on her.

"He is much the same as yesterday," she said. "I will be running some more diagnostic spells today to make sure his organs are functioning. If any damage remains, I will do my best to treat it."

"What is your greatest concern?" Severus asked, slightly afraid to know the answer.

Hannah let out a long breath. "Aside from death? Brain damage."

Hermione lowered her head into her hands and Ron looked grim.

"As you know," Hannah continued, "he lost a lot of blood, and rapidly, too. He was in hypovolemic shock when I arrived. It is likely, although not certain, that he may have suffered watershed strokes from the loss of blood pressure, which, incidentally, was responsible for his two cardiac arrests."

Severus tensed; reeling at the unwelcome news.

"The spells I put on his organs to repair and monitor them and, in the case of his heart, to keep it functioning properly, are all doing their jobs. I have added potions to his circulatory system to aid in the filtration of toxins from his blood, as those are generated at a higher rate during times of trauma to the body." Hannah shifted, tugging at her healer's robes. "I am also trying to aid the blood in perfusing any tissues that may have been damaged by lack of oxygen, especially in the brain."

"Won't his magic help him heal?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Hannah replied, "that is the one thing we have going for us. The potions and spells I used were specifically designed to aid a witch or wizard in critical condition by strengthening their inherent healing magic."

"In other words," Severus said, "if he was a Muggle, he'd be dead."

"That is almost a certainty," Hannah replied quietly.

Ron groaned. "When will he wake up?"

Hermione came to stand beside her husband, resting one hand on his shoulder and stroking Harry's hair with her other hand. "Yes, why is he still unconscious? Shouldn't he have awoken by now?"

"It's hard to say." Hannah tugged again at her healer's robes again. "Likely his body is trying to repair itself and directing all available magical energy toward that task."

Severus cleared his throat. "Does Miss Lovegood share your opinion?"

At Hannah's startled look, he knew he was presumption was correct.

Without waiting for Hannah to answer, he said, "Miss Lovegood seems to think that Harry is lost."

Hermione clasped her hand over her mouth and Ron said, his voice quite agitated, "Lost as in he's a lost cause?"

"No, no," Hannah said. "Luna seems to think… well, she fancies herself a…" Hannah trailed off and looked away.

"A what?" Ron demanded.

"A death walker," Severus said.

Ron looked shocked. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, everyone knows death walkers don't exist. They're just a myth."

"They do too exist," Ron insisted. "They're just really rare. Rarer than true seers even."

"Ron," Hermione chastised him, but the man in question interrupted.

"We had one in our family, several generations back. I'm named after him. Bilius Weasley. He was a world-renowned death walker. He kept journals. My great aunt Muriel has them."

Hannah checked the monitoring charms on Harry and then said, "Luna believes that Harry is stuck in the in-between."

"Well, how do we get him unstuck?" Ron asked.

Severus met Mrs. Granger-Weasley's gaze and knew she expected his support. Sighing, he said, "I am reluctant to believe in such things myself." Hermione looked vindicated, but only momentarily. "However, Miss Lovegood did say that if Harry stabilized, and another healer was present to watch over his physical condition," here he looked toward Hannah, who nodded, "Miss Lovegood would take me to him. To Harry. To try and convince him to reconnect with his body."

Hermione and Ron gaped at Severus. He supposed he couldn't blame them. He was not one to give credence to ridiculous legends and silly notions. But with Harry's life hanging in the balance, he'd do just about anything to help the man, no matter how preposterous or impossible it sounded.

"It's worth a try," Ron said.

"We brought Luna in for a reason," Hannah added. "Aside from the fact that she is trustworthy and she trained as a healer, she's also been known to do things, unexplainable things, that no one else has been able to do."

"Such as?" Severus asked.

"She saved a witch down in Devonshire, one that by all rights should have died. And there was that wizard on the Isle of Wight. Now, he was a lost cause. But she saved him, too."

Ron looked at his friend, who lay pale and lifeless in the midst of them all. "So how do we know when he's stable enough to try it?"

Severus looked to Hannah. He was wondering that as well.

"His indicator light needs to be at amber before we risk it," Hannah replied.

"What _are_ the risks?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not really sure," Hannah admitted, "but Luna said that if he wasn't stable, walking with him could push him over the edge."

* * *

The hours passed agonizingly slowly that day. They were nearing the 24-hour mark and still Harry remained unconscious, his indicator light red-amber. Harry's room still smelled of blood, as no one had had the time or energy to clean it. Draco had come by after breakfast, insisting that Snape receive his therapy regardless of Harry's condition. Severus refused to be moved from Harry's side, so eventually it was decided to relocate them both-Harry and Severus-to Severus's rooms.

There was a bit of bustle as they were both moved-Harry by Hannah and Ron, and himself by Draco, but soon they were settled in Severus's old rooms. It was both strange and calming to be lying in the bed he'd last seen three years ago. His room remained exactly the same as when he'd left it, although he was sure that the clothes in the cupboard would be two sizes too large for him now.

He glanced over at Harry and felt, more than ever, that the younger man didn't belong here in Severus's too grey room. Harry's rooms were bright and mismatched, full of color and life. Severus's rooms were clinical and cold, practical but nothing more. It saddened him to reduce Harry's world to this familiar yet unwelcoming space. There was nothing to be done for it at the moment, though.

Draco transfigured Severus's rooms so that the large bed, where he and Harry now resided, was secluded by means of long velvet curtains. Meanwhile, Draco transfigured a single bed for him off to the side where the therapists could work with him. There was a sense of indignity to it all, but he'd suffer it willingly if it meant that he could be well enough to help Harry when the time came.

* * *

By nine that evening, Severus was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He still hadn't regained sensation or feeling in his legs, no matter what the healers and therapists had tried. And it all seemed rather inconsequential in the face of fighting for Harry's life. Draco barely kept from admonishing his sharp tongue when the last therapist of the day, a young witch, left in a flood of tears.

"I heard you are going to try and walk with Lovegood." Draco said.

Severus nodded but remained silent.

"My father says death walkers are a load of rubbish but my mother believes in them. She told me once that one helped her grandmother cross. Said the old witch wouldn't leave until she got a message to her only daughter that the man that was courting her was a scoundrel."

"And was he?" Severus asked.

"Definitely," Draco said. "The man was a gambler with a load of debt and a wife on the side."

Miss Lovegood herself walked in just then. She conversed briefly with Hannah before sitting beside Harry and taking his hand. Luna's lids opened and her glassy gaze locked with Severus's. "It has to be tonight," she said.

"But he's not stable," Hermione protested, gesturing toward the still red-amber indicator beacon above the bed.

"He's drifting closer to the light of his loved ones. His parents and godfather," Luna clarified. Then, ominously, she said, "The end is near either way."

Hermione let out a wail and buried her face against Ron's chest.

In some distant part of his suddenly numb brain, Severus felt Draco take his hand. Severus closed his eyes and, regardless of everyone in the room to witness it, he wept.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Somehow, the previous version of this chapter was truncated. As such, it "ended" before it was supposed to. This is the complete version of this last chapter, which will make much more sense. My apologies, I've no idea how that happened.

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

Someone was shaking him by the shoulder as an airy female voice wheedled its way into his consciousness. "It's time, Professor."

Severus jerked awake, fighting off the dregs of the light sleeping potion Luna had insisted he take. She'd sent everyone off to bed, promising to awaken them when it was time.

Severus glanced around the room. Draco sat in a chair beside Severus, wearing light grey satin pajamas, rubbing his tired eyes. He'd insisted on staying with Severus, opting to sleep in the single bed that Severus used for therapy earlier that day. Hermione and Ron huddled together over Harry, both of them weeping silently, as they murmured words to their best friend. Hannah stood nearby, wiping her own tears, Ernie McMillan by her side. And, to his surprise, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stood sentinel by the door. Mr. Weasley looked grim, while Molly was furiously wiping her eyes. And that damned indicator beacon blared red-amber across the room, as if cursing them all to the fates of Hell.

So this was it. Severus supposed he should feel grateful that, of all of Harry's loved ones gathered here, he was the one that had been chosen to accompany Harry on what, his final journey? As he met the gazes of those around the room, it was not a good-bye he saw there, but ardent hope that somehow Severus would be able to drag Harry back to the land of the living. For just a moment, Severus wondered if this was how Harry had felt most of his life-charged with saving the world from a madman with absolutely no idea how to do so, and no faith that it even could be done, much less by him.

Luna waved her wand and an ungainly long sofa appeared along the wall opposite the bed, easily capable of seating everyone in the room and then some. As if by some unspoken agreement, everyone in the room save Draco and Hannah took seats, all huddled together for comfort. Draco remained beside Severus, while Hannah stood with her wand at the ready, in case she was needed.

Luna stood at the foot of the bed, equidistant between it and the sofa of observers. Then, in a swirl of white light, she cast several spells around the room. Severus didn't understand most of them but he guessed they were purifying spells or energy-balancing spells. When she had finished, everyone was staring at her agog.

Luna's straw blond hair was now golden bright and glowing, surrounding her head like a halo of ringed curls. The sky blue sari she wore shimmered and sparkled, like the sun reflecting off ocean waves. And white light rimmed her entire body. Overall, she looked like the Muggle vision of an angel.

Draco's gasp snapped Severus's attention to him, where Draco, mouth open but words absent, pointed between Severus and Harry. Severus followed Draco's direction only to find both himself and Harry glowing with that bright white light as well. He jerked his head to Luna, intent on asking her what was going on. When he met her gaze, she nodded and smiled. Gracefully, she climbed up onto the mattress and seated herself, cross-legged, between Severus and Harry.

Severus was transfixed. When she reached out her right hand to his left, he took it without reservation. A feeling of peace such as he'd never known before washed over him and, in that moment, he knew. Knew that he would follow this otherworldly creature anywhere in the universe. Knew that if this was what Harry felt, maybe, just maybe, he could let Harry go. Maybe he'd ask Luna to let Severus go with Harry. That would be all right.

"Severus."

His first name, spoken in that ethereal tone. Not aloud, but in his head.

He locked his gaze to hers. "Miss Lovegood?" he called in his mind, as natural as if they'd communicated this way their entire lives.

Her response was not in words but in feelings. He felt her pure light magic spill over him, embrace in warmth and safety and serenity.

Luna reached out with her free hand to join Harry's left hand to Severus's right one. Then she took Harry's right hand in her left, linking the three of them together.

Severus felt the chaotic yet soothing play of their combined magic pulse and settle into a rhythm, chasing itself around the circle of connection.

Luna closed her eyes and, as if she'd willed him to do the same, Severus closed his as well. Without words, she conveyed the direction: _follow me_. And Severus did.

The strange thing about walking in the in-between, he decided, was the complete lack of sensory input. There was nothing to see or hear, smell or taste. The closest thing to a human sense he supposed was touch, but even that wouldn't be accurate. Still, he felt as if he could almost _touch_ Luna's essence in this place of nothingness. Had he been in his right mind, he'd have found this all extremely disconcerting. But with Luna's presence, everything just felt _right_.

As if his thoughts on nothingness had spurred some sort of transformation, he watched in awe as shades of grey painted a monochromatic landscape all around him. He wondered idly if it meant something. The plane of perspective seemed to fade to endless darkness on his left while, to his right, it faded to infinite lightness.

Severus glanced around looking for Luna but she wasn't there, not in corporeal form, anyway. He didn't seem to have a body, either. The entirety of himself seemed to be a single point of invisible magic, the barest spark of life, and yet he felt no less insubstantial than when he was in his human form.

"Harry Potter."

Severus spun around, as if such a thing were possible in his present form. But he knew, without knowing how, that Luna was summoning Harry's essence to this place they stood. It took Severus a moment to realize what she'd actually done.

Just feet in front of him, as if someone from above had dumped a bucket of paint, Harry's body came into view: first his hair, then his bowed head, slumped shoulders and chest, arms and torso, waist, hips, legs, and finally feet. He was naked and his arms were wrapped tightly around himself as if he were in pain.

Severus glanced down to see that he, too, now had a body, naked and monochromatic as it was. He could feel Luna's essence nearby but she had not materialized. He sent his thanks to her anyway, knowing that she'd done this for him, so that he could relate to Harry in a form that that he could more easily understand.

"Harry?" Severus called out, taking a tentative step forward.

Harry shuddered but he didn't otherwise move.

"Harry," Severus said again, coming to stand before the younger man. "Harry, it's me. Severus."

Harry shuddered again. "You're not real. You're just a figment of my imagination." Harry's chest rose and fell, as if he was taking a deep breath, although, strictly speaking, breathing didn't seem to be required in this place.

Harry's next words caught him off guard.

"Severus Snape is dead."

"I most certainly am not!"

That declaration, delivered in an outraged tone of voice, had Harry's head snapping up.

"Whyever would you think I am dead? I am just as alive as you are," Snape said. He felt Luna's approval in the way her warm magic swirled around him.

"Sev?" Harry asked, the slightest trickle of hope seeping into his voice.

"I'm here, Harry. I promised I wouldn't leave you again. And I won't."

Harry simply stared, as if he couldn't believe his eyes and ears.

"But you have to promise me something in return," Severus said.

Harry's eyes had turned glassy, his unnecessary breathing uneven. Still his arms hugged himself, as if he was unable to believe. To trust. To hope. Harry's gaze never wavered from Severus's as tears began to slide down Harry's cheeks.

Severus reached out and brushed them tenderly away. His voice choked, he said, "You have to promise not to leave me, either."

As if his touch broke some tenuous restraint, Harry launched himself at Severus, burying his head in Severus's chest and holding onto him as if his life depended on it. Perhaps it did. Something inside of Severus broke free then and, in addition to his arms, his magic wrapped around Harry too, surrounding them both, tethering them together-to life, to death; it didn't matter which anymore.

As if they were two insubstantial helium-filled balloons, Severus felt himself and Harry being tugged away, away from the in-between, toward the dark horizon. He could feel Luna's essence pulling them back to the mortal plane, where strife and struggle awaited, where recovery wouldn't be easy. But joy was there too, and understanding and acceptance. And most of all, Harry. Harry would be there with him. They'd get through it. They'd get through it together.

~Fin~

Next: SEQUEL TWO: THE LONG ROAD AHEAD


End file.
